Fantasia Film Festival 2021: Paul Dood’s Deadly Lunch Break

This review was previously published by Horrified Magazine. It is recreated here with some changes to formatting, images and the removal of expired links.

Opening on the Margaret Atwood quote, ‘If we were all on trial for our thoughts, we would all be hanged’, Paul Dood’s Deadly Lunch Break joins the ranks of British comedy that trades as much in darkness as it does in laughs. The sheen that social media offers and the ugly reality it can obscure as people rush to make a name for themselves is a dominant concern, while also asking questions about who people are when no one they perceive as important is watching.

The titular Paul Dood (Tom Meeten) lives at home with his mother Julie (June Watson) and works at a charity shop, where he is frequently made into a figure of fun by colleague Bruce (Jarred Christmas). Paul and Julie cling to the idea that Paul will one day make it as a famous performer, spurred by social media application Trend Ladder. Early scenes between Paul and Julie introduce their relationship as supportive, both wanting the best and genuine enjoyment in being around one another. Other films would give in to the temptation to play this differently, to up their ‘weirdness’, but this treats them more gently – harmless hopefuls rather than deluded egotists. Fame is treated as a means of escape and a chance for them to reward one another for their loyalty. There is a sincerity to their relationship that isn’t played for laughs, which makes their interactions more affecting. It is the careful writing of some elements that arguably make some of the less effective moments more disappointing.

The scenes in the lead-up to the audition may feel like an uphill struggle for some. The film sets up the disappointment as a foregone conclusion at the outset and your mileage will vary on how much humour you can find from the repeat disappointments that Paul and Julie encounter. There is a near-agonising journey that makes up the first act of the film in which the pair interact with numerous people intent on making Paul’s day more difficult. There were gags for me that became slightly lost in the overwhelming darkness of this section, but it certainly sets the stage for the duration of the film, allowing for a bit more lightness later as the revenge mission takes shape.

Paul Dood features numerous British comedy talents and if you have followed the scene for any length of time there are plenty of faces you will recognise here. Steve Oram, Johnny Vegas, Alice Lowe, Kris Marshall, Mandeep Dhillon, Katherine Parkinson and Kevin Bishop all feature in roles of various sizes. Steve Oram as a deeply unhelpful bureaucratic train worker provides a highlight early on that showcases the film’s ability to switch from the sublimely silly to gasp-worthy shocks within the blink of an eye. Vegas’ turn as a cultural appropriator with a temper did very little for me, but humour is so subjective, and you do get the impression that Vegas is doing his best to sell it. Kevin Bishop’s spoilt celebrity Jack Tapp feels like a familiar role for him, but one that he can do so well it is still enjoyable. Mandeep Dhillon proves a steady hand as Jane Miles, a PCSO brought into the chaos surrounding Dood. Parkinson is excellent in what is essentially a small, but important role as Clemmie, a cleaner at the shopping centre with a penchant for metal music and a fondness for Paul. June Watson is wonderful as excitable, supportive mother Julie, delivering a real warmth.

However good the supporting characters are, the film stands on the shoulders of Tom Meeten. Despite the need to switch tones and in some cases, go to some incredibly bleak places, the film finds an anchor in him. Somehow perfectly striking the balance between hitting the comic beats and providing a sense of empathy, it is difficult to imagine anyone else in the role. Game for the physical clowning required without sacrificing the emotional poignancy and sweetness necessary for the film to have that extra weight, Meeten makes it look effortless.

With the focus on the performances, it would be easy for director Nick Gillespie to keep things simple, but instead, he infuses a sense of style throughout. Some of this is out of necessity, utilising the chest rig of Paul’s live streaming phone camera to present the action (complete with comments pouring in), but others, like a slow-motion rain scene that also functions as a spiritual baptism and rebirth of sorts for Paul break with the film’s more grounded camera in a way that feels well-earned rather than just a stylistic choice. The effects here are excellent too, with injuries that are impactful and enjoyed in all their gory detail.

If you can withstand the discomfort of the film’s first act, Paul Dood rewards that endurance. While not every joke lands it makes up for it with genuine feeling and a central character that is easy to connect to, finding comedy amidst the tragedy in this very British revenge film.

Paul Dood’s Deadly Lunch Break played the Fantasia Film Festival 2021 running from the 5th to 25th August.

Grimmfest 2022: Megalomaniac

Karim Ouelhaj’s examination of the cycles of violence is an immersive and impressive slice of nihilism.

Synopsis: Martha and Felix are children of the Butcher of Mons, a notorious Belgian serial killer from the 1990s. While Martha lives an unstable life riddled with insecurities, her brother, crushed by the family legacy, takes over their father’s killings. Harassed and violently assaulted at work, Martha falls into madness and goes through the looking glass into the strange and terrifying world inhabited by her brother.

The first thing to say about Megalomaniac is that it has perhaps been mis-sold in some quarters as to the extent of the extremity within the film. I maintain that this is a film that clearly reflects the DNA of movements like New French Extremity without fully becoming it. If you are going into this expecting sustained, gorily detailed violence befitting the ‘torture-porn’ label, you will be left wanting. It does capture the mood, however, of works like Martyrs, particularly in terms of Martha’s  internal life. Those intending to watch should be warned of the sexual violence the film features, of course, but it is mood and themes rather than content that has this sit in the more ‘extreme’ category.

Where Megalomaniac’s real discomfort lies is in Martha’s experience of the world as a child born of violence, subjected to it on a daily basis and living in the shadow of it still. Eline Schumacher is utterly captivating and frequently heartbreaking in her role. The film allows unanswered questioned to linger over the siblings and it is Martha, certainly that we are allowed the most access to. Felix (Benjamin Ramon) presents as a rather more blank slate – a cut and paste recreation (although, admittedly delivered with a superbly chilling performance) of the violence enacted by their father.

The look and sound of the film draws attention with the sibling’s near-dilapidated house separating them from society, forcing them to live in the decay of their father’s memory. The house contains them and forces them into that same space with spectres crawling around corners as a constant reminder of their origins and legacy. An impressive soundscape moves from droning to something more serpentine, creating a truly menacing effect. A late nightmarish sequence has these threads collide in dramatic fashion, an opportunity for Oulhaj to indulge in the fantastic imagery for a moment.

Elsewhere, violence is represented with consequence – it shatters, irrevocably alters people, yet it is also presented with a detached, matter-of-fact manner as this is the world we find ourselves in, aligned with the siblings. Martha’s situation is unthinkable but a horror she walks into every day because her entire world is punctuated by violence and the expectation of it. If megalomania revolves around a person’s obsession with their own power, starting that journey with someone who has none feels like a more interesting direction than aligning with Felix, who, while still consumed by a legacy of violence is at least in control of his day-to-day experience.

4.5 out of 5 stars

4.5 out of 5 stars

Megalomaniac screened as part of Grimmfest 2022. For more information on their screenings please head to grimmfest.com

Fantastic Fest 2022: Give Me An A!

A selection of short films in reaction to the overturning of Roe vs. Wade.

Synopsis: Expands the importance of bodily autonomy and addresses the issues of a democracy that does not protect the needs of the majority of the population.

The overturning of Roe vs. Wade in June this year felt like a blow to everyone who may find themselves with an unwanted, dangerous or unviable pregnancy. Limiting crucial access to often life-saving healthcare for a significant part of the population felt like a cruel blow, even for those outside the USA. Give Me An A! is a selection of critiques of that decision and the thoughts around it, bringing sci-fi, horror, comedy and satire in a collective reaction.

Following a dedication to ‘our mothers, our grandmothers and all those upon whose shoulders we stand today’ A! introduces a changing room of teenagers. The group engage in talk about proper tampon use and other subjects like the fetishisation of their uniforms before launching into a routine about bodily autonomy. Already, there is a cohesion between those women who have gone before and those having to ready themselves to fight again, creating a powerful statement about the current situation.

The shorts that make up the film range from the emotionally disturbing The Voiceless, the satire of DTF and even the faux-infomercial stylings of Plan C, to name but a few. Boasting an impressive list of creatives and performers each segment possesses its own clear identity and a different handling of the material. This careful placement and movement through different tones sustain the film’s energy, allowing an ebb and flow of lighter and more distressing takes.

Whether the segments are skewering the relative apathy of men in the face of bodily autonomy (DTF and the Love-Island-style gameshow Crucible Island), seeking to explore the very real impact on young girls (the slick transitions and emotional weight of Sweetie) or taking a more body-horror-related angle (The Voiceless and Medi-Evil) the throughline in them all is, understandably, rage. Even the cutaways back to the cheerleaders, staring into the camera as they announce the next film are all imbued with a sense of anger that hangs over the whole project.

As with any anthology, viewers will find more to like about some sections than others. However, with clear tackling of such a pressing concern each offering feels relevant and more importantly, potent.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Give Me An A! screened as part of Fantastic Fest 2022. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Fantastic Fest 2022: Lynch/Oz

Alexandre O. Philippe continues to deliver absorbing studies of his subjects, accompanied by a host of creatives.

Synopsis: Victor Fleming’s film The Wizard of Oz (1939) is one of David Lynch’s most enduring obsessions. This documentary goes over the rainbow to explore this Technicolor through-line in Lynch’s work.

If you are familiar with Alexandre O. Philippe documentaries, Lynch/Oz will be unlikely to surprise you. This does not buck the trend of engaging, aborbing, video-essay style explorations that are focused on how the smaller moments come to build a much bigger picture. This time the focus is on the collision of two seemingly distinct types of media: the classic film The Wizard of Oz and the films of David Lynch. Lynch, the film posits, has been inspired by Oz more than anything else and the threads are there to unpick in all of his work.

The documentary is divided into sections, each narrated by a creative with their own specific interest to highlight. Rodney Ascher, himself no stranger to the obsessive detail that documentary can bring following his own Room 237, takes on the ‘Oz narrative’, doubles and the ‘fish out of water’ character that has come to influence Lynch so heavily in Membranes. John Waters explores his and Lynch’s love-hate relationships with villains and the 1950s as well as their personal interactions in Kindred.

Elsewhere, Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson dig into Lynch’s playfulness as a ‘populist surrealist’ and the way he plays with American myth and collective fetish in Judy. Amy Nicholson too, draws attention to the moments where a film ‘looks at’ an audience, inviting them on the rest of the journey in Wind. The film finds perhaps its central thesis in Karyn Kusama’s section, Multitudes, in which Lynch is directly quoted as saying, ‘there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about the Wizard of Oz‘. Drawn together neatly David Lowery’s final section, Dig, focused on journeys and transportation finds space to discuss the wider impact of artistic influences.

The variety of contributors, whether they know Lynch personally or are inspired by his work adds a great deal to the documentary. Lynch’s many years of work can, at first, seem sprawling and difficult to connect beyond a few of his well-discussed tropes. However, as the film progresses, like the colour arriving as Dorothy enters Oz, more and more light is shed upon those influences, the lens of Oz offering a magical view of Lynch as a prominent American film-maker with much to say, often working in a system that finds his work knotty and difficult to unpick.

The voiceover work is clear, with carefully selected clips keeping a steady rhythm, allowing each contributor the chance to highlight their view. Some will undoubtedly find this slow in places, but it would be more accurate to say unhurried and keen to dwell on those moments. This allows those influences to become ever-clearer, strengthening each section as they come to build on one another.

An often hypnotic journey through the origins of what is now commonly known as Lynchian, this celebrates both Oz as a film and a cultural institution, responsible for providing the building blocks for some of the most engaging American film-making of the last few decades. An absolute must for David Lynch fans.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Lynch/Oz screened as part of Fantastic Fest 2022. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Fantastic Fest 2022: Nothing (Intet)

A tumultuous coming-of-age tale that indulges the darkness under the surface of a ‘perfect town’.

Synopsis: A group of 8th graders who confront the meaningless of life and leave behind the innocence of childhood.

There are two distinct worlds established at the outset of Nothing – the outward-facing, rule-observant idealistic one, full of parents who want their children to be guided in the right direction and the one beneath that image, of children left alone to fill their time, resulting in the group starting to explore their own directions and meanings in life.

Writer-director Trine Piil Christensen, adapting from Janne Teller’s novel situates herself firmly in the world occupied by the children, keenly aware of the adult’s indiscretions and relative lack of interest. The film’s inciting incident in which school boy Pierre Anthon (Harald Kaiser Hermann) has an outburst at school, declaring everything meaningless, before retreating to the safety of a nearby tree and refusing to come back down is an unusual one, seemingly purposely chosen to showcase the ineffectual parenting surrounding them. The rest of the children begin to mount a campaign to show him what they find meaningful, but Pierre Anthon’s existential crisis soon sets in motion an epidemic of nihilistic thinking amongst the group.

Much of the early parts of the film rely heavily on a voiceover from Agnes (Vivelill Søgaard Holm) who calmly intones about tragedies yet to unfold. At times, this feels like too much of a shortcut, with much of what we know about the characters delivered through that voiceover, rather than in more organic ways. This does occasionally feel clumsy, introducing snippets of exposition just before dramatic events without allowing the viewer to understand entirely. However, given that this film is largely concerned with the troubles of meaning (or lack of meaning) this does function on another level, prompting the audience to view each incident through both Agnes’ meaning and what plays out in front of them.

The sedate pacing too, imbues the film with the same impression the audience is given of the children’s lives. These are children with lots of time to spend together and they struggle to fill that time. Even those who are given parental figures with more status or involvement, like Frederik (Frederic Linde-Fleron), the head teacher’s son, are only viewed fleetingly, based on the ideas the group have about them. This, again, is assisted by the voiceover but the need for it to do quite so much of the heavy lifting in building that world sometimes bristles. This, along with a swerve into an odd direction during the third act that is not quite given the time it requires, hints at a sense that this would perhaps sit more comfortably in a much longer, episodic format.

This is, perhaps obviously, given the subject matter, an incredibly dark film, especially with so many younger performers involved. These dark moments are handled with an appropriate sense of dread and while many of the scenarios could easily stray into the exploitative (and may well overstep that line for some), there is an impressive amount of restraint employed, holding back so the moments that are fully revealed to the audience hit all the harder. The escalating trades the children begin to make in their search for meaning grow steadily darker and the young cast are all excellent at conveying their sways from innocence, to sadistic behaviour, all with a sense of insecurity at the heart of it. Maya Louise Skipper Gonzales is a standout as Sofie, taking a role that could easily become cliche and making it compelling.

While Speak No Evil may be the Danish horror that has everyone talking this year, Nothing also offers that very European darkness and unsettling themes that linger beyond the credits.

3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5 out of 5 stars

Nothing screened as part of Fantastic Fest 2022. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Soho Horror Film Festival 2022 Announcements

Following the initial announcements, the full lineup for both the in-person and online festival editions have been revealed, promising more of the eclectic indie genre cinema the festival has been bringing to lucky patrons for years.

The in-person festival kicks off on November 11th at the Whirled Cinema in Brixton, London with the virtual edition taking place a week later. Boasting a huge 30 features and more than 50 short films programmed with them, the festival is a real celebration of both forms.

The physical festival opening film, Nyla Innuksuk’s SLASH/BACK sees an alien invasion face off against underestimated teenagers. Other highlights include MEGALOMANIAC, described as being in the same sphere as films of the New French Extremity which is obviously a massive selling point for me. Jarring but enjoyable HYPOCHONDRIAC receives a further preview following an excellent reception from its FrightFest screening.

The virtual festival kicks off on 18th November, allowing festival attendees a little time to recover before serving up a further collection of horrific treats. Describing anything as The Wicker Man meets Bridesmaids will always peak my interests, so STAG is certainly one to watch. Previously announced found footage film WHAT IS BURIED MUST REMAIN joins the likes of ABYSSAL SPIDER, ensuring there really is something for everyone.

Tickets for both events are now available (and selling fast) from the Soho Horror Film Festival webpage where you can also read more about this incredible lineup.

Fantastic Fest 2022: The Offering

High energy frights, religion and family ties make for an overly familiar horror outing, albeit one with a pleasingly mean streak.

Synopsis: A family struggling with loss finds themselves at the mercy of an ancient demon trying to destroy them from the inside.

Arthur (Nick Blood) is returning to his roots, bringing along his wife Claire (Emily Wiseman) for what will be a tense reunion. While his father Saul (Allan Corduner) does seem to want to welcome him back, a more chilly reception awaits him from Heimish (Paul Kaye). Familial differences are not the only issue, however, as a body brought to the funeral home proves to be anything but routine.

The opening scene of The Offering functions as a decent showcase for what is to come, introducing a scene of religious-leaning horror, based around a demon known as ‘the taker of children’. With that unpleasant groundwork laid, the film switches to Arthur and Emily, starting to foreground Arthur’s departure from his community and the tension that brings to both of them. That they are visiting a funeral home soon sets expectations for creepy goings-on that the film is keen to progress.

Placing the action in a Jewish community presents an opportunity for the film to explore some often-underexplored customs and beliefs but this is arguably one of the film’s weaknesses. Throughout, you want more of that identity, more of those elements that could help it stand out. Aside from a few moments of ritual that are both compelling as well as important set ups for later events, this feels far too divorced from it, resulting in a film that feels too similar to many other horror films. This is not aided by some uninspiring CGI and a colour scheme that fails to differentiate it from other genre pieces.

Where the film works well is in the way it mostly confines characters to the funeral home, building up the pressure but also a kind of geography of the house that translates to the viewer, adding to the anticipation of the next scare. The Offering does possess some great kinetic energy with the funeral home doors slamming and swinging to avoid things feeling static in the same surroundings. Elsewhere an otherwise well-worn scare involving a camera finds a partial swerve that satisfies. However, much of this became standard jump scare fare with sudden bursts of volume drawing attention over anything more unique.

Those with more of an appetite for this kind of horror will likely rate this much higher and it should certainly find an audience looking for a late-night creep-fest.

2.5 out of 5 stars

2.5 out of 5 stars

The Offering screened as part of Fantastic Fest 2022. Find out more about the festival at their webpage.

Sideworld: Terrors of the Sea

The Rubicon Films team tackle the mysteries of the deep in this documentary.

Synopsis: Director George Popov presents a voyage exploring terrifying ghostly tales of the sea and monstrous horrors from the deep.

Producing two documentaries within a year is not to be sniffed at, especially ones as rounded as both Sideworld outings. I’ve previously reviewed the Sideworld: Haunted Forests of England on the blog and thankfully, Terrors of the Sea follows in the footsteps of that production in terms of its construction and focus on smaller, easy-to-follow myths, legends and supposed encounters.

The sea is, to put it simply, terrifying. Vast and with so many elements still unknowable (or at least incredibly difficult to research) it represents many things beyond human comprehension. As the documentary itself states, the sea has often been framed as a ‘dwelling for ancient and cosmic evil’. It is no surprise then, that myths, legends and stories come to fill in the gaps of understanding, but often spark more questions than answers.

Like the haunted forests counterpart, Terrors of the Sea breaks its hauntings into sections, focusing on ghostly vessels, sea monsters, tragic sailors and mermaids. There are passing references to perhaps more well-known stories that segue into smaller tales that are given specific focus. In most, the human side of these stories is focused on: love affairs gone wrong, indifference to those in need of help and a human tendency toward violence in the face of the unknown. This again, helps in the balance for sceptical viewers, with the stories able to be understood as genuine sightings or cautionary tales developed to warn us of our own destructive tendencies.

In dealing with the more otherworldly elements the film leans into illustrations and ponders other explanations. The on-screen text draws focus, where necessary, to multiple sightings, connecting the myths to glimpses of personal experiences. Illustrations are used to highlight these stories, all supported by the calm, reflective narration of George Popov. There is less emphasis on eyewitness sightings described via voiceover but where they do appear they so much to provide a spooky atmosphere.

At just over an hour long, Terrors of the Sea arrives as another example of Rubicon Films’ short but perfectly formed illustrated documentaries.

4 out of 5 stars

4 out of 5 stars

Sideworld: Terrors of the Sea is now available on Prime Video.

The Razing

An exercise in confined filmmaking that yields mixed results.

Synopsis: A group of estranged friends gather for a night of tradition which takes a deadly turn after old secrets and wounds resurface.

The Razing is a curious film in that for the most part it confines its characters to one room while also trying to build a wider world around it. It is often a compelling device for horror, the increasing tension and claustrophobia driving characters to increasingly desperate acts. The Razing leans into this tradition, trapping warring characters in a lavish space, removing them from the escalating concerns of the outside world.

The clever thing that The Razing does is introduce characters who are so clearly in crisis and cannot stand to be around one another from the outset, with the sniping starting almost immediately. These scenarios always lead you to wonder, as a viewer, how any of these people are friends or why they are still in contact, but the film sets out that these are a group mainly connected by a dark past, attending out of obligation rather than genuine desire to be around one another. Remaining within the confines of the room The Razing manages to blend the current day with their pasts, offering context and development. This is achieved by having two separate timelines operating within the space, one of the present and one of the past, in which characters’ younger selves walk seamlessly into the same space, taking the viewer across timelines in mere moments.

Early on, an overwhelming soundtrack holds the viewer at arm’s length, with booming music overpowering dialogue at times. With an already fractured group and tense conversation, this never quite lets you find a connection to the characters. This does, in some ways, add to the overall effect, only allowing you to find out the secrets between them as the group fractures. The setting too, is excellent, with the rich surroundings providing a clashing backdrop for the excesses and conflict taking place. The details of the acts taking place outside of the room are horrific,

Where the film struggles, for me, is using a near-constantly roaming camera. In some sections, like a move around the room to signify a timeline shift, this is an elegant way of moving between threads, as is the use of split-screen early on, visualising their conflict in an intriguing way. However, as the film progresses the camera is scarcely still, constantly exploring the space, even moving when characters are delivering monologues. The overall effect is a kind of queasy feeling normally reserved for found-footage films. A little more stability would go a long way in providing more connection with the characters and an ability to focus on performances, too. To some degree, you can understand the desire to offset the dialogue-heavy scenes and add some dynamic movement, but several sections are in need of moments of stillness to allow the horror to truly sink in.

While The Razing fully understands and portrays the horror of other people, some technical choices are likely to leave some overwhelmed and distant.

3 out of 5 stars

3 out of 5 stars

The Razing is distributed by Gravitas Ventures and will be released on September 27th, 2022 to TVOD and DVD and on SVOD and AVOD 90 days after.

Camping Trip

A host of interesting stylistic choices can’t sell this muddled horror.

Synopsis: In the summer of 2020, two couples decide to go on a COVID era camping trip after months of being in lockdown. The freedom of nature and the company of their best friends offer the group a rare sense of normality, but though secluded, they’re not alone. Nearby, during a botched drop off, two goons decide to go rogue; inadvertently, implicating the campers. What started as a fun-filled vacation quickly turns into a test of loyalty and survival. Suddenly the pandemic is the least of their worries.

Ace (Alex Gravenstein), Coco (Hannah Forest Briand), Enzo (Leonardo Fuica) and Polly (Caitlin Cameron) are two couples, heading into the wilderness for a much-needed catch-up after they have been separated by the pandemic. As ever, in the horror genre, their trip does not go as planned, throwing them into a dire situation.

Camping Trip will immediately split viewers, depending on the individual capacity for mentions of Covid (including the now very unnatural sounding use of Covid-19 which outside of medical briefings has largely disappeared from conversational use). Each reference that the script makes feels clumsy, so focused on positioning itself within a time and place that it almost forgets to weave it into normal conversation. The virus is a recurring theme and driving force within the film, taking on various functions as the film progresses. Whereas some pandemic films use the situation as a means to explore loneliness or the need for connection, this keeps returning to a far more literal take.

The film itself was shot in 2020 with strict health and safety measures in place, so it is likely that the use of this language and the preoccupation with it is largely due to the proximity to the initial wave. It does present the risk of filmmaking so reliant on a specific time, however, as it ages rather quickly. Other productions tend to offer little in terms of actually naming the pandemic, or avoid it entirely, so this complete focus does jar somewhat.

There is a relatively simple story throughout the film, although this is clouded by lengthy sequences (almost always featuring time-lapse photography) that linger, rather than add to either plot or tone. It has the effect of making it feel much longer than it is for the story to be told. Character decisions and motivations do not hold up to any scrutiny, resulting in times when the film is almost directionless. The slower opening that takes time to introduce the characters and their dynamics is solid and it is a shame this isn’t felt more keenly throughout.

The third act, in particular, feels like a vast departure from the rest and unfortunately ends up leaning into some tired tropes, including the threat of sexual violence as shorthand for villainy. That sense of it being ‘thrown in’ for that effect quickly sours. That last act, however, does feature some of the film’s more interesting choices, opting for a revolving camera to punctuate its sudden burst of action. In doing so, directors Demian and Leonardo Fuica manage to make the most of their effects in addition to adding a sense of chaos to proceedings. With numerous scenes feeling somewhat static, the use of this device does assist in adding drama.

Overall, Camping Trip is perhaps best viewed as an example of the kind of filmmaking that comes from restrictions. Despite the flaws, it exists as a display of how filmmakers can react to world events and capture those moments.

2 out of 5 stars

2 out of 5 stars

Camping Trip will be available on Digital Download from 16th August and available to pre-order here.